Messiah Complex
by kenshi
Summary: Starts after episode 25. The quest for the Philosopher's Stone leads Edward and Alphonse into the path of a man who people claim will restore Ishbar and bring peace to mankind, and what follows in this man's wake will leave no one unchanged.
1. Chapter 1

"Mr. Elric?" 

His body ached with not enough sleep. Somehow, he recalled that he had paid for an inn, and that inns tended to let guests sleep reasonable amounts, and sometimes they let people sleep as long as they liked; of course, this was rumor that was as yet to be confirmed, considering that it was four-thirty in the morning and they had only checked in a little over two hours ago. 

In the bed sitting a few feet away from him, Alphonse still slept. '_Lucky,_' he thought with a slight jealous edge. Holding in the groan that came with rising out of bed at ungodly hours, he went to the door and opened it, having to pull back momentarily due to the sudden change from dark to light. Once his eyes adjusted, he fixed the intruder with the angriest glare he could muster after two hours of sleep and too much travel. 

"Yes?" 

"I'm sorry to bother you," he faltered, looking as if he was ready to either yawn or cry, "but this urgent telegram came for you. It's from the military." The man, more like a kid a few years older than him, whose face was still young and inexperienced, held out a small white envelope with neatly typed letters on it. 

Edward snatched it from his hand with little to no flourish and shut the door, making a mental note to try to say something kind on his way out later that day. He flicked the envelope towards the small table in the room which was probably used for taking breakfast. The white paper landed on one of its corners and made a tiny tumble before coming to a rest, balancing precariously on the edge. Apathetic, or just not noticing, he fell back onto the bed, making a half-hearted attempt at drawing the covers over him before sleep took him. 

The next time that there was a knock at their door, the hour was slightly more reasonable. It was possible to think of people running about their lives at six in the morning; the sun came up around that hour, so he had heard. It was in a Farmer's Guide to Excellent Crop Growing or something. Too early to remember the exact title. 

"What now?" 

The kid looked embarrassed. No, he shouldn't think of the guy as a kid. He obviously had a few years (and nearly a foot) on Edward. "I'm so sorry, but there's another telegram. I think you really should respond, or else they won't stop." 

He held up a finger, but it was a kind finger. Although it was too early and he was too tired, Edward still understood some common decencies, probably somewhere around two. "One moment," he said as he retreated back into the room. In the dimness, he groped around for something he could use as a shirt, and then went to grab the first telegram. He figured he should respond to both of them, seeing as whatever they wanted had to be urgent enough to pester him so insistently and so early. Didn't anybody in the military ever sleep? 

Once he was somewhat collected, although his hair was loose and still a mess and his feet were bare, he followed the young man downstairs to where the telegram deliverer was apparently waiting to take whatever response Edward had for them. Finally downstairs, it struck him that he could have stayed in the comfortable cocoon of his room, read the message in the light of the creeping dawn, and muttered some sort of response which may or may not have contained vocabulary he would later regret. Shrugging it off, he opened the first of the two telegrams. 

EDWARD ELRIC PLEASE RETURN TO CENTRAL VERY URGENT REGARDING NEW MISSION STOP RESPOND AT EARLIEST CONVENIENCE STOP 

Edward chuckled to himself after he finished reading it. "I see. There must be some new definition for 'earliest convenience' that nobody told me about." Although the wording did give him some pause. Who was so kind or respectful to use "earliest convenience?" First of all, that was a bit pricey, and definitely less efficient then just typing ASAP. 

Chalking it up to some over-enthusiastic rookie, he opened the second one. 

EDWARD GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED 

He didn't even have to know it was from Colonel Mustang to hear that awful, mocking drawl that somehow managed to haunt Edward everywhere he went, even when he requested time to investigate something independently. This was supposed to be a vacation for he and Alphonse, but obviously the military had other plans. Or maybe it was just Mustang who had the other plans. There was never much certainty with that man. 

Frustrated with the current situation, he asked for a piece of paper and a pencil to scribble down a response. It took him a bit longer than it should have because he wanted to make sure to get the words exactly how he wanted them and refrain from any suggestions of placing large objects in small orifices, the latter of those two being harder than he would want to admit. 

_Look for us in two days Stop For future reference four thirty early but not convenient Stop_

Once he finished, he folded it in half and gave it to the telegram deliveryman, apologizing for not having any money to tip him with, and that the military would pick up the cost of sending this telegram. Nodding, the deliveryman bowed lightly and tipped his hat, bidding Edward a good morning. 

"It's a morning," he said softly as the man left, a hard, irritated smile on his face, "but I wouldn't necessarily call it a good one." Hiding his disappointment as much as he could, he told the desk clerk, the same man who had brought him the telegram both times, that he and his brother would be checking out that morning. The man nodded, and asked if they were leaving town. 

"Yes. We'll probably be taking the ten-thirty train, going south. Why do you ask?" 

"If you would like, I could have Amelia pack you two a nice lunch." He smiled warmly. "She makes delicious sandwiches; always gets the best tomatoes for them." 

Edward returned the smile. "That would be nice. Thank you very much." This was what he liked about the world outside of Central. In that city, everybody was too busy, but in little country inns or tiny homes with large tables and welcoming hearths he was reminded why life was worth living. He never thought about or even realized these things, but he did know that something always drew him away from Central and towards smaller towns. 

As he walked up the stairs, he felt sleepiness settling back into his body and by the time he reached the door he was yawning hard enough to split his head in two. However, if he felt that the telegraph was actually urgent and not something that he had to hop on right away, he could have gotten himself and Alphonse to the platform in under ten minutes. 

He tiptoed into the room, and saw that his brother was sleeping soundly. Smiling, he walked to his brother's bed and pulled the covers up slightly. Even though it didn't really matter seeing as Alphonse would never get cold, and he knew it didn't matter, sometimes he felt compelled to do that. Shrugging, he crawled back into his own bed and settled into the inviting blankets. He didn't even remember his head hitting the pillow, but somewhere along the way, it must have; he just went to sleep and did his best to ignore the oncoming day. 

It was seven in the morning when Lisa Hawkeye entered his office. In fact, it was exactly seven in the morning, right on the dot, as it was always exactly seven in the morning when she arrived at work. However, this was probably the first time he had ever actually been there before she came in, which made her so surprised that she nearly choked on the water she was sipping. 

"Good morning, Lieutenant." 

"Colonel!" She brusquely snapped to attention, holding her cup of water carefully at her side, making certain not to spill it. 

Roy rewarded her surprise with a thin smile. "We will be babysitting in two days," he said softly. 

Letting her arm drop slowly, she spoke with confusion, even if her face betrayed nothing. "But won't that put them in the middle of everything?" 

"No. I'm sending them on a wild goose chase which should keep them out of our hair long enough. Those two can take even the simplest of missions and create a lot of trouble with it." 

"But they always manage to look good, don't they?" 

He picked up a stack of papers and tapped their edges on his desk, straightening them out. "I'll make sure they're gone within two days of their arrival." 

"Yes, sir," she replied, nodding. "Hopefully this will take at least a week. I don't know if we can count on everybody to take that long, though." 

He lowered his head a bit so that his hair covered his eyes, making his expression unreadable. "We're going to have to pray for a miracle." 

"Brother? It's time to wake up." 

Not fully aware, Edward swatted in the general direction of the voice. "No more telegrams..." he muttered drowsily. 

Alphonse grabbed his shoulder and shook him gently. "We need to wake up, or else we're going to waste the morning." 

Yawning, Edward rolled over and faced the suit of armor that was his brother. "What? What time is it now?" 

"It's nine in the morning. I let you sleep in a bit." 

Edward sat up in bed, scratching his head as if it would get blood flowing to it. "I'll probably be sleeping on the train, too." 

"What do you mean?" 

He let himself fall back into bed again, not wanting to deal with what he had to say. "I got an urgent telegraph from Central. I'm needed." 

"But we just got here!" 

"And now we have to go back." He sat up a little, propping himself up on his elbows. "Do you think I'm happy about this? Because I'm not." 

Alphonse looked down. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't be. It's not your fault." Stretching lazily on the bed, he looked out the now-opened curtains through squinting eyes. It was a beautiful morning out there. The sky was the purest of blues, a gentle breeze made the lush grass and fruit-filled trees sway gently. He always loved watching wind roll through grass; it looked like what he always imagined waves in the ocean to look like. 

"It's gorgeous." 

"Yeah." 

"We should go." 

"Yeah," he muttered, answering a bit more heavily this time. He rolled out of the bed and changed into his usual outfit of all black with a red jacket. Sometimes he thought about changing his attire, just to do something different, but it was always too much of a hassle to actually get around to doing it. Packing his suitcase quickly, which really only required that he fold and pack his sleepwear, they were out the door and on their way out. 

The inn owner caught them on the way out, handing both Edward and Alphonse little neatly-wrapped packages. "There's a sandwich inside," he explained, "and an apple from the little orchard we have in the back. It's too bad that you couldn't stay longer." 

Edward smiled, finally remembering himself. "I'm sorry I was so angry this morning," he said sheepishly. "Both times." 

"Don't worry about it," he laughed. "I figured a little kid would probably be pretty grumpy that early in the morning." 

At that comment, he practically launched himself at the innkeeper, and was barely caught by his brother before he could unleash a horrible flurry of fists. "Who are you calling a little kid?" he shouted angrily, swinging his arms and legs in a desperate attempt to free himself from Alphonse's strong grip and create havoc. 

He laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're not a kid, I guess." 

Settling on that, he paid the innkeeper for the room and two lunches and they headed to the train station, catching the nine thirty train that would take them back to Central. Unfortunately, there were so many stops that they would have to stay the night somewhere along the way. He decided in advance to take the cheapest of all possible options and stay with Winly in Rizen Pool for free; although, knowing her, they would probably wind up being put to work to earn their keep, and with catching up, the two of them might be delayed an extra day. This didn't bother him too much as he settled comfortably on the train and watched the terrain pass by. 

"Do you know why they're calling you back?" 

Edward shook his head. "No, but it sounds urgent. They sent me a telegram at four thirty in the morning and another one at six thirty. I'm surprised you didn't wake up when they knocked on the door." 

The armor clinked softly with his shrug. "I guess I just feel peaceful out here. What did the telegrams say?" 

"The first one ordered me back. The second one," his eyes narrowed, "was Colonel Mustang giving me a hard time." He proceeded to contort his face from one emotion to the other as he mocked the Colonel. "'Oh, I have yet another unimportant and useless mission, I guess I should dump it on Edward! I don't need sleep, so I'll harass him until he gets over here. Although, he could already be here! He's so short, I'd never see him anyway!'" Edward sighed and fell back against the train's window, staring outside once more. "What a jerk." 

"Maybe it really is urgent." 

"Then why would they give it to me? There are probably many other people better suited." 

Alphonse looked out the window as well. "I'm sure there's a reason they chose you." 

"There is a reason. Colonel just wants to climb in the ranks, and every little thing I do right, as long as it was ordered by him, earns him another point." He chuckled coldly. "At the rate we're working at, he'll probably be Major General before the year is out, and two summers from now, he could very well be the Fuhrer." 

Deciding not to aggravate his brother further, Alphonse allowed the conversation to die there and let them stare out the window in silence. 

"Let's hope Winly came back from Rush Valley," Edward said as he picked up the phone. They finally made it to Rizen Pool and he had yet to let them know that he needed a place to stay the night. "I'd hate to have to look at grandma Pinako's face all day." 

His brother didn't say anything as he dialed. 

"Rockbell Auto-Mail Shop. How may I help you?" 

"Hi, Winly," he said. He knew that he almost sounded relieved, but that she probably wouldn't notice it over the phone. 

"Edward! Is Alphonse there? Are you two all right?" Her tone took a sudden turn towards accusatory. "Wait. Did you two get in trouble already? Did you lose your arm again? I told you that it was less durable, and I fixed it perfectly this time, so if it broke, and I can't even believe you would let it break, I only saw you three days ago-!" 

"Winly!" He found himself shaking his free fist, even if she couldn't see it. "We just need a place to stay for tonight! We have to go back to Central." 

Edward could practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other half of the line. "So that's how it is, is it? Just call when you need your arm fixed or a place to stay. No letters to let us know how you are, no calls just to say hello and keep up. All you do is take, take, take." 

"Yeah, pretty much." 

She became dangerously quiet. "Ed..." 

"So we'll see you in a half an hour?" he asked with a sly grin. 

"Ed..!" 

He knew he was pushing it, so he decided to end the conversation. "Great! I'll see you in a bit. Thanks so much, Winly!" 

"Ed, I -" 

With very little flourish he clipped the phone back into its cradle and faced his brother, still bearing that sly, I Certainly Hope I Don't Get Caught smile. 

"Brother, that wasn't very nice." He fretted a bit. "Winly has always been very kind to us, and you should try to be nicer to her." 

Picking up his suitcase, Edward chose to ignore what he was saying and walked out of the station. His brother caught up to him and walked by his side, the two of them strolling slowly in a distantly familiar landscape. 

Alphonse often thought of Rizen Pool as some sort of painting that always hung in the back of his mind, and every time he saw the real thing, he was always bothered that some things, like a field here or a tree there or a small shack, differed from the painting in his mind; he was never quite certain if it was new, or if he just never paid attention to it before, but it never failed to remind him what they once called home was now a fading memory. 

Winly stared into the dead receiver, in shock. 'Did he really just hang up on me?' Eventually, she heard a series of beeps and some woman's voice was telling her something, probably that her childhood friend had become a rude and reckless little bastard. 

"So, they're coming, then?" 

She started, not realizing that Pinako had even come in. Exactly how much did she hear? "Yeah. They just got off the train and are walking here." 

Pinako nodded. "You didn't offer to go meet them." 

Her expression went from quiet surprise to murderous in less than a second. "He hung up before I could get anything out of him." 

"Just go blink the lamp or something," she teased, her face and tone unchanging. "It should make you feel better." 

Winly huffed out of the room and up the stairs. Even though she resented what Pinako had said, she still took the lamp and went out to the balcony, blinking the light slowly. As she stood there, waiting, she remembered one day when they were little children, and she and Alphonse and Edward were playing by the river, the part where it curved near Edward and Alphonse's house. They had all been so small then; it was hard to imagine that only six years ago, they were all still children. 

The three of them went to a part where the river narrowed, and there was a series of large stones that were very widely spaced; were someone daring enough, or perhaps just crazy enough, they could leap from one stone to the other and make it to the opposite bank. Alphonse and Winly were a bit hesitant, but Edward proved then, as he continued to prove even now, that he was both daring and crazy enough to try to cross the river. 

"Brother, don't!" 

Edward looked over and smiled at his brother. "It'll be easy!" he said. "Just you watch!" The water was rushing past quickly, but not menacingly. It lapped at the shore and at the sides of every rock playfully, inviting him to play in the water a bit before he began his trip across the river. He knew, however, that if he got wet, he'd probably have a hard time hanging on to the rocks; it was hot, but playing in the river could wait. 

"Ed, if you fall, you'll get hurt!" 

Winly's comment only gave him more of a reason to try it. He grinned at her too and replied, "Then I won't fall," as if it were as simple as that. Ignoring the rest of their protests, he walked out onto a rock that jutted into the river from the land. Sometimes, Edward and Alphonse would try to build a raft and launch themselves on it from there, but they always failed and sank into the water. This time, though, Edward was going to launch something else. 

He positioned himself as close to the edge of the rock that he could without falling into the water. A large cloud passed overhead and the sun was blocked out for a bit. He studied the first of the three rocks, and realized that it would need a slight running start. Taking a few steps back, he briefly walked what he expected his running leap to feel like, measuring it in his head. '_Step, step, jump,_' he thought. Edward readied himself. 

"Please don't," Alphonse cried. 

Step, step, jump! 

Edward landed safely on the first rock. 

"Good job," Winly said angrily, her arms crossed. "Now come back here so I can give you a prize." 

"Not yet," he said, already studying the next rock. "I'm going to get to the other side and pick a flower for you." 

Her eyebrow twitched. "Ed..." 

"And there's some really cool rocks over here, Al!" He made a show of looking at the opposite shore, holding a hand above his eyes to shield out the sun. "Do you want one?" 

"I want you to come back," Alphonse quietly replied, so quietly that Edward didn't hear him. 

Since he couldn't hear the answer, Edward assumed he wasn't getting one, and made the leap for the second rock. He landed it, but slipped, having to catch himself. It was an easy enough catch, but the screams from the shore made him wonder if his slip looked worse than it was. 

"Brother!" 

"Ed!" 

He pulled himself back up onto the rock. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he shouted, waving them off dismissively as he judged the next rock. It would probably be the hardest out of all of them, because it was much higher. He figured that he would probably have to jump and latch onto the side and pull himself to the top of it. Thankfully, there were a few smoothly carved-out little dimples in the rock, perfect for gripping it with his hands. 

Winly tried to bring him back again. "It's okay, we believe you, that you can do it. You don't need to actually jump." 

But this time Edward could only hear a faint shout. All he could really hear was the sound of the water rushing around the rock. It didn't seem as playful anymore. He looked up and noticed that the sky was getting a bit darker, and he worried for a moment that maybe a summer storm was kicking up. 

Edward steeled himself for the next leap. 

Clenching his jaw shut, he took the one step that the rock he was on would give him and flung himself at the third rock. He caught it, but fell, and had to catch himself a second time. His face dragged on the rock as he slid down it, and he knew that there was going to be a huge scab on his cheek from it; hopefully it wouldn't bleed, otherwise he would never hear the end of it. When he did catch himself the second time, his feet dangled in the water and his shoes were soaked through, but he had no time to worry about that. Hauling himself up, he climbed the rock, groping for pockets and footholds along the way. When he reached the top, he saw that Alphonse and Winly were screaming at him, but he could no longer hear them. The storm was almost here. 

The hop between the third rock and the shore was so minimal that he had to just step off the rock and he would hit soft shore. He made a tiny jump and landed gently in the sand. 

When he looked back at the opposite shore, he saw Alphonse and Winly waving their arms frantically. He waved back to them casually, but stopped when he noticed that they were pointing at his house. Their mother was blinking the light, probably because of the storm. Although he knew he should probably just use the bridge to get back across, it would take so long, since the bridge was over half a mile upriver from where they were, that he decided to chance it with the rocks. 

Before he left, he picked a flower and got a small rock. 

The first rock on the way back, which had been the third rock on the way in, was very simple. There was a small ledge sticking out, and all he really had to do was step onto it and climb up. Also, the second rock was no problem. It was so much lower that all he really had to worry about was if he would slip in his wet shoes. He took the leap and landed it, and he could now faintly hear Alphonse screaming for him. Winly had already left the shore, and he could see her running for his house. '_Probably to tell on me,_' he thought angrily. 

The third stone actually wasn't much of a problem either. The stones got progressively lower as he went back, so it was easier to leap from one to the other, and he did this one casually. All that was left was to leap to shore and he would be home free, except for when mom started yelling at him about being so reckless. 

Although, now that he looked at the shore, it seemed farther away then he remembered. Rain started to trickle down from the sky, and the once friendly river raged around the rock, licking at his heels as if it wanted more. He looked at Alphonse and saw the panic in his face, and he hoped that his own face didn't look as terrified as he felt. 

"Brother, please, just wait for mom!" 

"No!" Edward was shocked that he could suggest such a thing. "I'm not going to get in trouble. I'm going to make it." He looked at the flower he was holding for Winly in his hand and chucked it into the river. "I still have a rock for you." 

"I don't care about the rock!" Alphonse shouted back. Edward thought that he had tears in his eyes, but it was difficult to tell through the steadily-falling rain, which grew in strength with each passing moment. "Just don't get hurt!" 

He nodded resolutely, and looked at the distance between the rock and the shore. When he had been going to the other side, he had to take a running start to land on this rock, but now there was no space for any kind of a run. The other rock was a bit lower, but not nearly low enough for him to be able to leap and make it safely. Edward knew now that the best he could hope for was to grab onto the edge with his hands and pull himself in. 

"Al! Stand on that rock right in front of me," he shouted, pointing to specifically where he wanted his brother to stand. "I'm going to jump, and I need you to catch me. I don't know if I'll make it." 

"Just wait for mom," Alphonse shouted back. He looked practically hysterical. 

"I'm going! You better catch me!" Taking a deep breath, Edward leapt with all of his strength for the other rock and he heard his brother scream as he sailed through the air. As he fell, he felt his arms connect with the rock, and warm hands wrapping themselves around his forearms. The lower half of his body fell into the water and he could feel himself being dragged strongly by the rushing current. 

"Brother!" 

"Al! Don't let go of me!" He struggled to pull himself and could feel his brother straining on his arms, but he knew that they wouldn't be able to pull him out. Alphonse was struggling and slipping on the wet rock, and the rain was only coming down harder with each passing moment. Edward looked at the situation and then up at his brother. He spoke quietly. "Let go of me." 

Alphonse looked as if he had been punched in the stomach. "What?" 

"You're going to fall in too. Just let go." 

But he refused to, only tightening his grip when it began to slip in the rain. Edward was still struggling to pull himself back in, but the second he felt Alphonse slack, he was going to let himself go. A few times, Alphonse slipped and nearly fell in along with his brother, and although Edward tried to let himself go, Alphonse held a tight grip. 

Finally, however, Alphonse had to release his brother. He stood up, trying to use the leverage of his height to pull his brother out of the water. However, as he pulled back, he slipped in a puddle and fell backwards, his head striking the rock sickeningly hard. His hands released Edwards' and his brother floated downstream. 

Behind Alphonse, Winly screamed for Edward at the top of the hill, which woke Alphonse up from the moment of blackness. He saw his brother's head bobbing in the water, struggling to swim to shore or to at least avoid some of the rocks in the river. Edward's feet were directed downstream, but his arms were struggling for the side. 

Not thinking about anything but his brother's safety, Alphonse began running downstream and dove straight into the river. 

The cold water chilled him straight to the bone and he felt the darkness from his head wound clawing for him again, but he shook it off and searched for his brother, who was now awkwardly floating in the water. He looked practically dead. 

"Brother!" Alphonse began frantically swimming downstream, avoiding the rocks. A large tangle of brambles was coming up, and if he wasn't careful, they could get caught up in it and drowned. He was a few feet away from his brother still, and from the way the water was zipping along, he had less than a minute to get them to the shore. 

When he finally reached Edward, he reached one arm around his body, using the other to frantically swim towards the shore. However, the water was rushing them along quickly, too quickly, and he worried that they wouldn't make it. He could see his mother running along the shore, looking for something to reach into the water with to pull her children in. She was screaming for them, and Alphonse felt heavier because he couldn't do anything to make her feel better. 

Suddenly, however, luck came his way. Under the water, just barely beneath the surface of the river, was a large rock. His feet connected with it, and he used it to keep himself still against the rushing flow. Now, he could feel the true power of the river, and clutched his brother even more tightly, worried that Edward would be ripped from his hands. He edged his foot towards the shore, feeling his way gently along the rock. It remained solid the little way that he was able to reach, and he slowly side-stepped his way as close to the shore as he could. 

As he walked, he realized that this rock most likely went all the way to the shore, the five remaining feet that he was unable to swim. He looked at the shore he was going towards, and saw that it was difficult to access, blocked off by many boulders. Their mother was struggling to climb over them, still shouting for her sons. Winly was also there, and she was much closer than their mother at reaching the two of them, leaping from rock to rock deftly. Alphonse reached the shore before either of them arrived, and he pulled the two of them up. He gently shook his brother. "Brother?" 

Edward coughed weakly at first, then more violently, and curled to his side as water poured out of his lungs. He heaved a deep, gasping, struggling breath and then apologized to Alphonse. 

Not saying anything, he just held Edward tighter until Winly and their mother arrived. 

Winly remembered every detail of that day; she remembered that she had never lost sight of that river, that she had stood from a hill and screamed for their mother to come help them. That day, among many other days, still lived in her mind, as vividly as if they had happened only hours ago. But that one day stood out among the heaps and piles of memories that made up her childhood. It was because it was the first time that she thought she had lost Alphonse and Edward. Now it was something she had to deal with every day of her life, that her two best friends could be dead and she would never know. 

She continued blinking the lamp on and off until she saw two figures walking towards her house. 

"Look at you," Pinako scolded. "Still haven't grown an inch." 

"You just saw me a few months ago! How can you expect me to grow that fast?" 

"I gave up on expecting you to grow a long time ago." 

"Maybe you should give up on being a crotchety old -" 

Alphonse quickly stepped between the two of them. "Hey, why don't we go inside? Winly must still be inside. Maybe she wants to see us?" 

As if on cue, Winly shadowed the doorway. "Wow, this is a treat. I get to hear from you two twice in one week. That's some sort of a record, isn't it?" 

Edward looked away, practically rolling his eyes. "Hi, Winly." 

"Is that all you can say?" She sighed. "Well, come inside. You're a bit late for dinner, but I can probably warm something up for you. The guest beds are already ready, so if you're just tired, you can go to sleep." 

Still looking down, his face slightly shadowed, he smiled. 'Same old Winly.' 

"Thank you, Winly." Alphonse took the suitcase from Edward's hand and used his other hand to usher his brother inside, past the slightly scowling Pinako. If not physically tired, then at least he was mentally tired and didn't want to deal with the two of them squabbling and potentially throwing a ridiculous amount of large, heavy objects at one another. 

There was a point at which they all got settled around the table, and Edward had a plate of warm food in him. The three of them chatted idly while Edward ate everything on his plate, practically sucking the pattern right off the china. Had it been anyone else, they would have probably watched him with a vaguely disgusted fascination, bordering on scientific curiosity. However, Alphonse, Winly, and Pinako hardly blinked. 

"So what brings you two through here?" Pinako asked. 

Edward worked hard to swallow a particularly large bite. "We got a telegram from Central. It takes two days to travel there from where we were, so we thought we'd -" 

"Crash here like freeloaders?" Winly grumbled. 

"We don't really have any place else to stay," he said quietly. Changing his manner quickly, he stood up with a grin. "That was great. I think I'm about ready for bed. I'll just take my own plate into the kitchen." 

Embarrassed, Winly stood up and stopped him, taking the plate and utensils from his hands. "I'll get it for you. Just go to sleep, both of you." 

Edward looked her in the eye briefly. He then nodded. "Let's go, Al. Good night." 

Winly woke up with the dawn, stretching lazily in bed as the rising sun splashed light right in her eyes. She dragged herself down the stairs and into the kitchen to cook something for the two of them to have for breakfast. 

'_Oh, wait. Three of us._' 

She took a few more things out of the refrigerator and began frying up some eggs and potatoes for them. Having to cook for one more person was so easy, and even though she slipped up in the early morning, it still felt very natural to have Edward and Alphonse sleeping upstairs, hearing light breathing and the gentle scrape of metal against metal as she passed by their door, always open ajar. Winly smiled as she scrambled the eggs. 

"Smells delicious." 

Nearly tossing the pan in surprise, she turned and saw Edward standing in the door. He was so quiet that she didn't even hear him come in. When had he become so quiet? She remembered days when the two boys thundered through hallways, bringing the fury of the elements with them. 

"Good morning," she said softly. 

He came into the kitchen and went straight to the fridge, groping around for some juice. Successful, he closed the door, a glass bottle three-quarters full of orange liquid in hand. "We're probably going to have to leave around ten," he said, opening up a cupboard. 

"I figured you two would leave early." 

Edward closed the cupboard and fiddled with the glass he had taken. "I'm sorry about last night. I was rude." 

She shrugged. "So was I." There was a moment of silence, and all that could be heard was the sizzling sound of frying potatoes and the gentle crackle of the scrambled eggs on the hot pan. "But I think that if I could just get a letter from you once in awhile, some way to know that you're alive and well..." Suddenly she became very focused on the eggs. 

Letting the question die as it stood, he poured himself a glass of juice and put the container away. He drank it down quickly, breathing an 'aah' of refreshment once he finished. 

"Can you set the table?" 

He didn't say anything, but got the plates and flatware and set four places at the table. The silence was oppressive, and he felt its weight on his shoulders, but sometimes things were too difficult with Winly, and he never understood why. 

"Oh, it looks like they left." 

Edward picked his head and saw Pinako standing in the doorway. "I'm right here, you old hag." 

"Where?" She made a great show of squinting. "Oh. I didn't see you there. Maybe if you grew a few -" 

"Eggs anyone?!" Winly cut Pinako off sharply, running between the two with the hot pan in her hands. "Let's eat quickly before it all gets cold!" 

Edward stood up and walked out of the kitchen, calling back something about going to wake up his brother. He climbed the stairs, his mind sloshing about in varying insults he could have shouted at Pinako, all of which would have made his brother blush and say 'brother' in that disapproving way. 

He opened the door. "Al?" 

His brother was already awake and making Edward's bead; his own was already neatly made, not a single rumple in the blanket, the pillow properly fluffed. "Good morning." 

"I could have done that," he said as Alphonse placed the plump pillow on the perfect blanket. "Anyway, we're having breakfast." 

"Thank you." 

They walked downstairs together and sat at the table. The four of them passed the morning in silence, until it was time for Edward and Alphonse to leave. They left the Rockbell house and workshop, waving as they walked, but only for a short time. 

"You're very quiet," Alphonse said gently, breaking the silence between them. 

"Am I?" He shrugged. "I just wonder what was so urgent. We've only been gone for a few days." 

His brother made a gentle 'hmm,' which usually meant that he conceded that Edward didn't want to talk about whatever was bothering him, but that he would not let the matter drop entirely. However, he was willing to not bring it up when they got to the train station, or even on the ride to Central. 

"Sir? They've arrived at the station." 

He nodded, still staring at his papers. "Good. Have Edward come to my office as soon as he gets here. In fact," he corrected, finally looking up with an unreadable expression on his face, "make sure he comes directly here." 

The junior officer bowed. "Yes sir." She left quietly, closing the door with a gentle click. 

"He doesn't know, does he?" Hawkeye looked out the window as she spoke. "He doesn't know about Maes." 

The look on Roy's face never left. "That's why he's coming directly here." 

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Thanks for reading! This is only the begining of something very long, so let me know if you're interested in seeing more ^.^ 


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to Kailun, Lunatic Pandora1, and RVD for your reviews! They're what feed the fic ^.~ 

As per RVD's request, I've spaced out the paragraphs a bit in this chapter, as well as modified the previous chapter to be easier to read. Hope it helps! 

================================================================== 

He strolled right into the office as if he owned the place and then flopped down on the couch unceremoniously. Roy never lifted his eyes from the folder in his hands, but by the slight quirk in his eyebrow, he projected just how much Edward's entrance irritated him. Edward simply frowned at this and looked at his hand, his actual hand, before putting it comfortably behind his head with the other one. There was a long table between two more couches which stood between him and Roy's desk; he put his feet up on it. 

"Well, I'm glad I rushed as soon as I could," he muttered. 

Roy still didn't look up. "I do have a mission for you." 

"I mean, everybody downstairs is in such a rush," he pressed, ignoring what Roy had just said. 

"You may not see it," he said quietly, "but there are reasons." 

"It was just chaotic." 

He was clearly becoming irritated. "You're being childish," he snapped, flipping the file shut. 

"Cats and dogs, living together. Utter madness." 

"Edward!" 

Grinning cheekily, he finally made eye contact with a fuming Roy; to anybody who hadn't seen that face fairly consistently, Roy probably would have looked fairly well contained. To Edward, however, that face showed someone who was bristling with rage. 

'_Good._' 

Wordlessly, Roy flung the file onto the table; it landed neatly, sliding down the short stretch until it hit Edward's foot with a soft tap. "Get your feet off my table." 

He did as the colonel requested, but only to pick up the file. As he leaned forward, he finally noticed a bouquet of flowers resting on his desk. "Got yourself a girlfriend?" Edward asked. 

"No." 

"Ah," he said with a sage nod. "Boyfriend." 

Roy's eyes became dangerous. 

Not wanting to be hit with one of the few large blunt objects on Roy's desk, Edward chose to bury his head in the file. However, it wasn't long before he thought a good sound hit to the head was what he needed. "You want me to do what exactly?" 

The colonel looked irritated, but he covered it with a sly grin. "Now I understand why you spend so much time in the library," he said coolly. "You spend a few days away from books and suddenly your reading comprehension drops below that of a stone." 

"I can read," he shot back. "I'm just confused. You want me to talk to some woman about a book?" 

"Exactly." 

"What, do you want her autograph but you're too shy to get it from her?" 

"More like too busy." He folded his hands together and rested his chin on them. "Anyway, I'm a bit worried that this book of hers is going to stir up some trouble. I want you to go find out exactly what we could be in for." 

He opened the file again and read the description softly. "... a book linking alchemy and religion... Does she think that she can bring the military and the people of Ishbar together?" 

"I'm worried that she might try. That's why I'm sending you." 

"There has to be someone better suited. And anyway, why are you worried?" 

Roy smiled and proceeded to dodge the question deftly, although obviously. "You're a kid," he said, reminding Edward of the obvious truth he so often wanted to forget, "and you've got an innocent face. Well," he added, the chuckle implied in his tone, "most of the time. At any rate, as long as you keep your status as a Nationally Certified Alchemist to yourself, you'll probably be able to get all the information you need from her." He gave Edward a quick once-over. "I'd recommend you change your style to be a little less obvious while you travel." 

He looked down at the black outfit he always wore. "What's wrong with this?" 

"Nothing, if you're a state alchemist, which you don't want to look like. Just find one normal outfit." 

"Black suits me, thank you." 

The sentence hung in the air longer than it should have, and Roy stared at the flowers on his desk. "I have to go visit an old friend." 

Edward was surprised to hear the slight choke that came with that sentence. " Fine," he said, ignoring whatever he had heard, "I'll report back when I have some findings." 

"Why don't you come with me?" 

He stared in shock. "I'm sorry, what?" 

"Just for an afternoon. Unless you have other things planned." 

The shock had him still reeling, so it took him a moment to come up with an answer. "No, I guess I'm not busy," he replied, not exactly certain why he agreed to go. 

Roy stood silently, picking the flowers up off his desk. Walking towards the door, it opened before he got there, and Hawkeye stepped in. She noticed Edward, and then the flowers in Roy's hands, and gave him a look. 

"We're just -" 

"I know," she said. "Be careful." 

He nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. "Do you want to go there with us?" 

"I don't think it's my place." 

"It's not anybody's place." 

Edward was looking between the two of them wildly. "Can you two please speak English?" 

When Roy looked at Edward, for a brief moment there was a look which was completely and utterly unreadable. If it were on anybody else, it would have been obvious, but for Colonel Roy Mustang, having any expression other than a veiled smugness was a surprise. 

Especially when that expression was open pain. 

"Let's go." 

That was the last thing he said until they reached their destination. 

Alphonse was reading some of the books that Armstrong had taken from the library for him. It had always bothered him that he was unable to become a Nationally Certified Alchemist because of... 

'_That's always a tricky turn of phrase, isn't it?_' Some days it was difficult deciding how to best address 'the incident.' He decided to let it die and press on with reading. For the time when the two of them will find a way to give back to humans what they had lost, he wanted to make sure that he knew all there was to know about alchemy, so that they could give back to the world everything it had given to them. Although there were some utterly foul people that they met along the way, and some of them were so foul that they weren't even truly people, there were also a lot of good people, and a lot of good examples. 

"Alphonse?" 

He was interrupted from his thoughts by Hawkeye calling for him through the door he had left slightly open. Instead of calling for her to come in, he rose from the chair he was sitting in and walked over to the door, opening it for her. "Hello, Lieutenant Hawkeye." 

She walked in carrying a few more books. "Armstrong told me that you requested these. And it's First Lieutenant." 

"I'm sorry," he said, taking the books from her arms. "First Lieutenant. Are you just passing through?" 

Hawkeye hesitated. This had all been so easy in her mind, but now it was a bit trickier. "When your brother comes back, he will need you. I don't know exactly what will happen, but I thought you should be warned." 

"Is he all right?" Alphonse did absolutely nothing to hide the panic in his voice, and it was in moments like this that he came across as truly young; or perhaps his brother was truly old. 

"He will be fine, but for awhile he may be upset. I just thought you would appreciate advance warning." 

Alphonse nodded. "Thank you." 

"Enjoy your reading." 

"Why are we at the cemetery?" 

Roy got out of the car without a word, his hands gripping the flowers far too tightly. "Like I said. I have a friend to visit." 

Following him out of the car, Edward hesitated when his feet hit the dirt. "Are you sure I should be here?" 

He nodded, not saying anything. Perhaps he was unable to say anything. 

Silently, Edward following behind Roy, they walked through the rows upon rows of loyal dead, those who fell in battle in the name of their country and commanding officer. Edward thought of his mother, and how he never put enough flowers on her grave for her. She deserved better sons than that. 

There were so many graves. It was just a sea of white headstones in a green field, set against a painfully blue sky. White, green, white, green, so blinding, so sharp. It started to give him a headache and he found himself closing his eyes and relying on the sound of Roy's footsteps in front of him to guide him. How could so many people have died for the same thing? Was this what war gave back to the people? 

"We're here." 

Edward opened his eyes and looked around, but by the way Roy was standing, he couldn't tell which grave was the one he was visiting. The graves were old, as the stones were already smudged with age and the dirt covered by grass. However, one grave, a few plots down, caught his eye. It was still fresh, with only a few green blades poking out of the dead brown soil. He motioned towards that grave. "Is that your friend?" 

"He's your friend too." 

"What?" 

Roy refused to look him in the eye. 

Angry, Edward walked the few steps to the grave and read the name. He read it again, and again, hoping it would change, but every time it remained the same. Shock, numbness, just staring at that name, those letters, why did they have to be in that order? Why did they have to say that? Why did it have to be... 

"Hughes." 

"I'm sorry, Edward," he said, now standing right behind the young alchemist. 

It was as if this was all a cruel joke. He had always teased that Hughes was a drag to be around, always talking about his gorgeous loving wife, Gracia, or bragging about how wonderfully cute and clever his sweet little Alicia was (although, the bragging was not entirely unfounded). However, Hughes was... he didn't understand how Hughes fit into his life. He was always just a fixture, a part of life that was there and you never had to worry about going away. Permanent, solid, unshakable. 

Like a parent. 

"Was this what was so urgent?" he finally managed. Although he tried to maintain his composure, his voice still came out strangled. 

"Among other things." 

"Great. Next you're going to tell me that ..." He trailed off. 

"Tell you what?" 

Edward's eyes narrowed. "Nothing," he muttered distantly. "Never mind." Somehow, he couldn't really think of something that could compare to this. 

"I understand." 

"How are Gracia and Alicia?" 

"Not well," he replied. His voice almost sounded tired. "But I hope Gracia will recover. It's only been a few days, so she hasn't had much time." 

They grew quiet again, and Roy stepped forward, setting the flowers gently on the still fresh earth. The wind picked up and managed to rip away the delicate petal of a red poppy, letting it fall on the dirt; the rest of the flowers held firm. He moved away from the grave, standing just a bit behind Fullmetal. 

Staring at the headstone, Edward felt something warm move towards his shoulder. He though that it might be Roy's hand, but the moment he identified the feeling, it went away, almost as if he had imagined it. '_Of course I imagined it,_' he teased himself. '_Why would that bastard ever try to comfort you?_' 

"How did it happen?" 

Roy paused, surprised that he was already asking that, as if he was so composed. Either Edward actually was maturing, something too surprising to even be conceivable, and yet here he was conceiving it, or he was trying really, really hard. "We're not exactly certain." He quickly debated whether it would be better for him to be tactful or to be direct. "His body was found next to a telephone booth, with a stab wound in his shoulder and a single shot to his chest. Some of his blood was found on the floor of a hotel less than a mile away. Witness reports said that there was military personnel with him, except nobody can identify who it was." 

"Probably wasn't military personnel, then." Edward turned slightly and looked up at Roy. "Does anybody know why he went to the hotel?" 

He shook his head. "Although, the receptionist at the hotel did identify the Fuhrer's secretary, but she had an alibi for that night." 

"Where was she?" 

"Working late at night with the Fuhrer, apparently." The smirk on his face told Edward that any work those two might have been doing was not the kind of work one discussed in polite company, which somehow the dead managed to be. 

Edward laughed, but it was more like a sharp exhalation. "You don't believe it." 

"It's not my place to believe or disbelieve." 

"Fair enough." 

Roy was surprised at how quickly Edward was able to turn from the Edge Of Tears and back into the Depths Of Reality. He couldn't decide whether it was a show or the real Edward. Both were highly possible; the kid had seen enough death in his life, but he also dealt with a lot of mockery from Roy. Very tricky. 

"Perhaps we should go." 

A huge gust of wind picked up as Roy said this, as if it was waiting for a cue, and swept across the graves, ripping every last petal from the red poppies and spraying them across the ground. 

Edward watched the petals fly. "They say that where many graves are planted, red poppies spring up naturally." He turned and walked back towards the car. 

Alphonse looked up when he heard the door open slightly. He recognized the quiet, rhythmic step of his brother, hard then soft, and turned around in his chair, worried about what he might see. 

He was surprised to find Edward looking absolutely fine, not a care in the world. 

"What happened?" 

Edward became irritated. '_Am I so obvious?_' He sighed, only now realizing that while someone else had to bear the burden of telling him, they left it up to Edward to tell his brother. "Hughes is dead." 

"What?!" 

"He was killed in the line of duty," he continued, now staring at the floor, unable to look his brother in the eye. "They promoted him two ranks, posthumously." 

The room was enveloped in grave silence, broken only by the gentle creaks of Alphonse moving; it looked like his shoulders were shaking. Edward didn't know how to react; when they were little and their mother had died, he held Alphonse every night for nearly three months, and his little brother sobbed himself to sleep. But now, what would he do? 

"Gracia is going to take me shopping this evening," he said. "I have to get some new clothes for our next assignment, and she's going to help me." Painfully, he finally looked up. "Would you like to come?" 

As soon as he made eye contact with his brother, Edward felt someone reach into his chest and crush his heart. Although his face was unchanging metal, somehow Alphonse managed to be extremely expressive, and how broken he was inside was completely apparent. Edward's throat swelled shut, burning as if it was raw with screaming. 

'_No,_' Edward scolded himself. '_Now's not the time._' He did his best to offer a comforting smile. "I think Gracia and Alicia might enjoy seeing us, and Roy said it would help to get them out of the house." 

Alphonse nodded. "All right, brother." He faltered, asking hesitantly, "Are you all right?" 

"Me? What about you?" 

He straightened up. "I'm fine." 

"Well, if you need to mope," Edward said, finally entering the room and going for his suitcase, "you had better get it out of your system now. It'll be no good if either of us lost our heads in front of them." He opened his suitcase and took out a pair of jeans. Changing quickly, he continued, "We're only going to be here for the one night. I got the feeling from Roy that he wanted us out of here as soon as possible, and I'm eager to oblige." 

"You don't even want to rest for a day?" 

Edward buttoned the jeans. They were a tiny bit snug now. Probably the great diet that being a dog of the military afforded him. "Rest and do what? We have some stupid mission which will probably take us a day or two to do, with another day or two of traveling. That in itself can be our vacation." 

"Where are we going?" Alphonse began putting his books and notes away, stacking everything neatly. 

"North," he replied, changing black shirts into something that was less worn with travel. "I have to see a woman about a book, and Roy thinks I'll do better if I don't look like a state alchemist. That's why I need the new outfit." 

Pausing, Alphonse looked over his shoulder at his brother. "Won't I stand out?" 

He shrugged. "Probably. I don't know what else can be done, though, except to leave you here, and I won't do that." 

His brother smiled, the expression visible only in his eyes. "Thank you." 

"What an asshole." Edward punched the post of the bunk bed with his fleshy fist. It connected with a soft thud that sounded like it was probably painful. 

"What?" 

"The colonel," he said, turning around sharply and falling back against the bunk post. "He could have called us in time for the funeral or something, but no." 

Alphonse spoke gently. "I'm sure he had his reasons." 

"The bastard always has his reasons. I know that, and I don't care." His jaw was clenched shut. "All I'm asking is to be let in on what those reasons are once in a while. I've been in this deathtrap they call being a Nationally Certified Alchemist for three years now. You'd think that maybe, just maybe, he could let us in on what's rolling around in that little pea-brain of his." 

He thought of suggesting once more that maybe Colonel Mustang had reasons for keeping them in the dark about his reasons, but Alphonse thought better of it. 

"I'm going to go take a shower. Wash the train ride off of me. Wouldn't want to smell like a cow, would I?" 

Silently, Havoc walked away from the door. 

"So he's frustrated, is he?" 

Havoc nodded, sitting lazily on one of the chairs in Roy's office. "Are you happy to be back in Central?" 

"Under the Fuhrer's watchful eye?" Roy said, not masking his sarcasm. "Where would I rather be?" 

"Out in the field, protecting that kid." He spotted the disbelieving look on Roy's face and rolled his eyes. "Look, for all your subtleties, you're completely obvious when it comes to Elric. Especially now." 

Roy nodded. He looked out the window and spotted a group of cadets, marching around in the square, keeping their skills sharp. The cadets always needed to look sharp and be of use; the military would use you until you were dead. 

"You're going to be off the hook completely," he said distantly. 

"That's true." 

"I can't understand why." 

Jon shrugged. "I'm not a very interesting person, I guess. I don't tend to attract a whole lot of attention. Anyway, what do you think you're going to do?" 

"What else can I do? I'm a sitting duck." For a moment, he looked tired, or perhaps just irritated to the point of exhaustion. "I can't believe you, Havoc." 

He smiled disarmingly at the colonel. "You know you appreciate it, so don't even try to give me that." 

"I do appreciate it," Roy replied. "Very much. But I want you to promise me that once the shit truly hits the fan, that you're going to steer clear and mind the over-spray." 

"With all due respect, sir, I have a duty to fulfill, and I'm going to do it. I swore an oath that I would follow my commanding officer to the grave, and I intend to do it." 

He snapped his head towards Jon, his face set in steel. What he said, he said so slowly and with such force that each word stabbed Jon, burying themselves in his mind forever. "I've already buried one friend," he said. "Don't make me burry another." 

Jon swallowed, hard. "Yes, sir." 

"I was thinking that we could go out tonight," Edward said, standing at the door with as charming of a smile as he could muster. 

Gracia stood in front of him, looking well-kept; her hair was as neatly brushed as ever, and her clothes were still very nice, but also very plain, just like what he expected a mother to wear. She was perfectly groomed and looked extremely well. All but her eyes. 

"That sounds nice," she said softly, her voice broken. "Let me get Alicia. Just one moment." Her movements were slow and robotic, and when she called for her child, her voice was completely joyless, nothing like the Gracia they had known. She returned to the door shortly, holding Alicia's hand in her own. "We are ready." 

"Big brothers!" Alicia squealed, wrapping her arms around Edward's right leg. 

Edward smiled, patting her on the head gently. '_Well, she seems to be all right._' He looked up at Gracia and saw a small light flicker in her eyes. '_They'll both be all right._' 

"Let's get going," Alphonse urged, the childish grin echoing as he spoke. 

A car was waiting to take them to the Central Promenade, where they would have their pick of clothing shops and posh restaurants. Edward had decided in advance that they would go out somewhere to eat, and he made certain that none of them were special spots that could have possibly reminded Gracia of her husband. Forgetting was what she needed now. 

In fact, it was time to get going on making her forget. 

"What do you think we should get?" 

She turned her head, looking somewhat distracted. "Hm? Oh. Well, I think that a bit of color would be good to add to your wardrobe. Black and red are very harsh colors." 

"That's true. Do you think that blue would suit me?" 

For a moment, the fog seemed to lift a little from her face as she studied Edward. "Hm. It may. I think you would look good in any color other than yellow." 

"Why not yellow?" 

"Your hair, and your eyes," she said. "It would just be too much." 

He smiled contently and did his best to continue the conversation until they reached the Central Promenade. Alicia was playing with Alphonse in one of the fountains, the kind where the water spurts out of a myriad of holes in the ground. Edward casually warned his brother to stay away from the water, or else he might rust, before he and Gracia went to the store. 

Before he was even in the store, he saw that Gracia had an armful of clothing just waiting for him. She muttered something along the lines of "holdtheseplease" and scurried off to find more things for him. Grunting under the load, he tried to shift it around so that he could see exactly what he was holding. Most of the clothing was fairly unobtrusive, pale blues, greys, and a white shirt here and there, with two pairs of jeans mixed in. He cringed when he saw that the shirts were all size small. 

"At least she didn't get extra-small." 

"Here," she said with a smile, putting more clothes on the already-overloaded Edward, "go try all of these on. I put some things in there to give you a respectable wardrobe." 

He groaned as she nudged him towards the changing rooms. "I'm only buying clothes for a few days. I don't need all of this." But he was completely ignored as she pushed him into the small, closet-like room and shut the door on him. 

"Just try those on and show me how you look." 

Edward did what he could to hang the clothes on the two impossibly small hooks in the changing room. He hooked them on, a handful at a time, and started putting them on more and more cautiously as he neared the end. Hooking the last one on, he sighed, ready to begin changing. 

Then there was a loud thud and a short yelp inside the changing room. 

"Are you all right?" 

"The clothes attacked me." In a cascade they had all fallen off the hook and knocked him to the ground. "I don't think we're going to get along too well." 

He could hear laughter through the door. "I think you will get along fine, if you just try them on instead of tossing them around." 

With a frown, he grabbed his shirt and hauled it over his head, fishing for a new one from the pile with his other hand. There was neither rhyme nor reason to the shirts that were selected, so he was confused as to which one he should select first. It should have been an easy enough problem, like drawing a piece of popcorn from a bowl, but he knew that every progressive shirt he wore would mean that he would probably have to get it, thus expanding his clothing options beyond that which would fit in his suitcase. 

"Oh, hello. Out shopping?" 

Gracia's voice floated into the dressing room, but it was not directed at Edward. 

"I accidentally ruined a shirt this morning. Ironing mishap." 

Edward's eyes widened slightly. '_It can't be..._' 

"I should probably have more than a week's supply of shirts, but I don't see a need for more. And I see you're out shopping as well." 

"Shopping, and then some dinner. Oh!" she said, and Edward could practically hear the benevolent smile of hers. He winced, knowing that the next thing she was going to ask was, "Would you care to join us?" 

'_Please say no, please say no..._' 

"That's all right, Gracia, I have a meal for one waiting for me at my apartment." 

Edward slumped against the dressing room wall and sighed. 

"Oh no, please, I insist." 

His face drew in pain. "Why did she have to insist?" he muttered to himself. 

"Are you certain?" 

"Oh, Colonel Mustang, I couldn't let you eat alone tonight. You just have to join us." 

"Well," he said, and Edward cringed, knowing the _exact_ expression on Roy's face right now, "if you insist, then I suppose I can't turn it down." 

He punched the wall. 

"Edward? Are you all right in there?" 

"Fine, fine," he muttered, grabbing a shirt at random and putting it on quickly. 

"Is he with you? Oh, that's right, he needed to look less conspicuous for his next mission." He chuckled and knocked on the door. "Why don't you show us your new look, Fullmetal?" 

Carefully stepping over the mountain of clothes, he left the small, suddenly welcoming room to face Colonel Mustang and do his best not to let the mockery get to him. As he walked out, he checked the color of the shirt he was wearing. '_Blue,_' he thought. '_Blue is all right. Oh, and I didn't put it on inside out. Bonus._' 

"Well, I think you look very handsome." 

Edward blushed and looked away. "Okay. Then let's get it and go." 

"Eh," Roy interrupted, "I don't think it's subtle enough." 

"All right," he said as calmly as possible, "which one do you recommend then?" 

A few of the store patrons were beginning to stare. 

"Try that green one sitting on top of the pile." 

Wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, he merely took the shirt off, threw it at the pile, picked up the other one, and put it on. "Better?" 

The eyes of all the store patrons watching suddenly widened. 

Edward noticed this and he shot all of them a look. "What?" he challenged. 

They looked away hurriedly and went about their business. 

"I think the green suits you better." 

He sighed, visibly slumping. "Only for this one mission," Edward murmured quietly. "One mission, and then you can return to a world dominated by one color, in which everything makes sense." 

"I suppose that's why you joined the military." 

Edward looked at Roy, his eyebrow raised slightly. "I'm sorry. Maybe I didn't hear you. Did you just make a joke?" 

"Not really," he replied smoothly. "More of a passing comment which could have been taken humorously. If I was going to make a joke, I probably would have said something suggesting that you're very hard to size due to your height, or lack thereof, and that it would make sense for you to want to wear the same clothing you've been wearing for the past few years." 

"That's a bit of a long joke. Not too good for a snappy reply." 

Roy shrugged. "I'm a bit out of practice." 

"Go try a few more on, Edward," Gracia urged, nudging him back to the mountain of clothing with a smile. "And remember to shut the door this time!" 

He allowed himself to be pushed back into the changing room and shut the door behind him. It was only then that he fully realized what had just happened. 

"I just had a conversation with Colonel Mustang. A _friendly_ conversation." 

"Did you need something?" Gracia's song-like voice carried into the room. 

Edward realized that he had spoken aloud. "Oh! No, I'm fine. Thank you." He frowned as he changed into a new outfit. '_This is going to be an interesting evening._' 

Alphonse stared at the ceiling. He knew that the blanket was covering him, but it wasn't as if he could feel it. However, it was on him, neatly laying there, nestled slightly under the arms of the suit of armor. The senseless mass of the acoustic ceiling, the kind with the consistency of cottage cheese, began to take shapes in the darkness, and he saw little figures frozen in motion, like a small bunny rabbit or a vaguely frightening clown. 

"Ed?" 

"Yeah, Al?" 

"Don't you think it was strange, bumping in to Colonel Mustang like that?" 

His brother rolled over in bed and faced the wall. "A little bit. We should get some sleep. I was hoping to leave early tomorrow." 

"You mean early today." 

Edward looked over his shoulder at the clock. "Yeah, you're right. I can't believe it's already that late." 

"We did stay a very long time. I hope that we didn't upset the restaurant owners." 

"I'm sure it was no problem," he said, dismissing Alphonse's worries. "If it was, they probably would have said something." 

"With the way you and the colonel were talking the entire time, I think they would be scared to." 

His brother huffed. "Fighting is more like it. I can't stand how he constantly tries to bait me like that." 

"You were being just as bad." 

"Let's just forget about it, okay? We get to leave tomorrow, and then I don't have to see that stupid, smug face of his for at least a week." 

'_You would be sad if his smug face was no longer around, brother._' But Alphonse kept his tongue on this one, knowing it would be a bad idea to aggravate his brother, especially now, when he could sense that Edward was ready to pounce on anything. "Where are we going? I don't think you ever told me." 

"North." 

He sighed. "I know north, but what city?" 

Edward rolled back over in bed to face his brother, propping himself up on one elbow. "We're going to be heading for Menros, which is north and slightly to the east of here. It's going to take two days to get there, so I was thinking we would stop in Engelwood for the night." 

"Is there anything special about Engelwood?" 

"Other than that it's midway between here and Menros?" He shrugged. "Not really." 

Alphonse nodded. "Sorry for interrupting you." 

"It's okay. Well, Menros might be a bit dangerous; they suspect that some of the refugees from Ishbar might be there. So you and I are going to have to try to be inconspicuous. I want to get this stupid mission done and over with, so that maybe we can get back to more important matters." 

"The Philosopher's Stone," he said, filling in the blank that his brother never offered. "You still haven't given up on it." 

Edward's face changed, but in a way that was almost as good as a nod. "There is another way, I know it. And I'm going to find it." 

"I haven't forgotten either. I'm going to get your arm back for you." 

"Before my arm is your body, Al. Don't forget that." 

"Ed..." Alphonse sighed. "But the stone. Can there really be another way? The stone is just... it's..." 

His eyes narrowed in determination. Alphonse remembered the look clearly. "I don't know if it's going to be the stone. Maybe it's going to be something else. Regardless, I'm going to make things right again." 

"Brother?" 

He fell back in bed and once more faced the wall, curling up in a ball. "Good night, Al." 

Alphonse hummed in worry. "Good night." 

"Good evening, Captain Obvious." 

Roy hadn't even flicked on the light in his office. "Hello, Farman. And that's Colonel Obvious." 

The salt-and-pepper haired officer didn't bother getting up. "Had a nice evening?" 

"I thought I would enjoy what time I had left," he replied, flicking the light on and closing the door quietly behind him. 

"If you're looking to enjoy your time, I know of a little house down in the less-reputable part of town where they sell some of that. Of course," he added with a smirk, "by reputation only." 

"Of course." 

Vato Farman watched as his senior officer walked over to his desk and opened a drawer, apparently looking for something. "I suppose you just want to leave him with a good impression." 

"I think I'd rather leave him with any impression other than the one he already has. Somehow, leaving behind a memory of a hard-assed prick with a superiority complex and a slight penchant for what might be considered megalomaniacal tendencies is not exactly what I had in mind." He slammed the drawer shut in frustration and fell into his seat, completely giving up on composure. "I hate this feeling." 

"You don't have to worry about what he thinks of you, colonel." 

Roy looked up at him, slightly confused. 

He smiled. "The boy's been following you like a stray pup since day one. Don't you think that if he was really upset, he'd figure out some way to get a transfer, or weasel himself into someone else's domain?" 

"I knew Foenhime," he offered weakly. 

"A lot of us knew Foenhime," Vato replied quickly. "And if he really cared about his father that much, don't you think he'd be asking for him more? Or at all?" He shook his head. "No, he's given up on that, and you know it as well as I do." 

Roy lowered his gaze. 

"Don't play dumb with me, colonel. I may not have known you as long as some other people have -" 

"You mean Maes." 

He coughed. "But I can still read some of your actions. It's nice of you, to want to leave Edward with an image of his commanding officer as something other than a complete and utter sociopath - although I don't know for whom it would be nicer - but you could have gone about it in a more subtle manner. And either way, I don't see why it matters." 

"If I had known, I might have done things differently." 

"No, you wouldn't have." 

Roy finally looked up and met Vato's gaze. 

"You would have done everything the exact same way, and I'll tell you why: that boy, he can handle almost anything that the world can throw at him. And since he's Foenhime's son, that's going to be a lot. The worst thing you could have done was coddle him and make everything easier on him. He stepped into the adult world, and you gave it to him, holding back only the things you knew would break him." 

He smiled, a sort of sad, distant smile, and his eyes drifted towards the window. "You're trying to make me sound like some sort of hero. I'm not. I'm just a man who saw a useful tool and used it to its fullest potential." His smile grew sadder. "Little did I know that it would all come crashing down on my head." 

"Sir, not all is lost." 

"All _is_ lost, Farman, and the best thing you can do right now is get out." 

Vato understood perfectly. He stood up and bowed slightly. "All of the people under you have followed your every order to the letter, not because of duty to the military, but because of duty to you. Remember that." As quietly as he had entered, he strode out of the room. 

The colonel sat quietly in the brightly lit room, his desk absolutely pristine. In fact, everything in the room was pristine. A place for everything, and everything in its place. Yet if any of the drawers were opened, all that anybody would see would be an utter mess of papers, a chaotic arrangement which only Roy himself understood. Files and reports were strewn everywhere behind cabinet drawers and within covered shelves, yet he knew the place of everything in his office. 

Anyway, what did it matter? To the common observer, it was absolutely perfect. 

He leaned back in his chair and felt, for a moment, utterly despondent, something he hadn't felt since that day in Ishbar, but something which had been brewing within him since Maes had fallen, since Jon had spoken with him. 

"And what of me?" he asked the air. "Will there be flowers on my grave?" 


End file.
